‘Get the fuck out of my life!’ she growled.
‘I am tired of you, your delusional debates, your filthy mind, and your hideous appearance. I just want to get rid of you. So for your own sake, get out of my fucking life!’
‘You won’t find solace in this contaminated world, Amelia. Here I am; waiting for you, ready to hold you. And I will not leave you.
Life has a form and its share of predicaments. Sometimes it develops around a fixation, paranoia, a squabble with the inner self. And to add to her squabble, was this individual, bringing out the worst in her each time; for days, weeks and years. And he won’t stop. Though he was harmless, Amelia would despise him, curse him and sometimes even try to hit him. But he was shameless and invincible most of the time and wouldn’t budge.
‘Why do you hate me so much? Did I try and harm you or hurt you? I am just around, and my presence makes you sick. I cannot do anything about it. You allowed me to stay along and stick to you. Now I am like a shameless parasite or maybe your Siamese twin – if that’s subtle. Though I don’t owe you an explanation, you can still thank me later.’
‘You pervert! Last evening, before I went for a dinner date, you reminded me of something I want to forget forever. My first night my ex. I was embarrassed like fuck, and he just couldn’t stop licking me, like a dog. It felt gross.’
‘Well, those sure are high points in life, I assume. And what’s bad in that. You enjoyed it after a while, didn’t you? Especially when he mastered the art of getting to the G…’
‘Oh, Shut up! You don’t need to elaborate and remind me that!’
‘I am reminding it? Come on Amy, get a life!’
‘What the fuck did you just say? Amy? That’s what my drunk father called me! You dare not call me that again!’
‘Well, I am sorry. If you want to make a puppy face and ask for an apology I wouldn’t really mean’
‘Oh, fuck off!’
This was a daily drama in Amelia’s life. Each day started with a squabble and ended with a truce. Amelia had been living with him for years and was used to his ways – his endless sarcasm reminding of blades that tore her apart and things she hated. He was like a mirror, always ready to taunt her, belittle her and show her the worst scars. He was immature, insensitive and unwanted almost all the time.
Next morning, he sat by the coffee table looking out.
‘So, you can’t make yourself a cup of coffee, but you can wake me up with a jolt isn’t it?’
‘I am no mood to fight today, Amelia’
‘Good Lord. He finally decides to shut that sinkhole’
And it was true. He did not fight with Amelia that day. She was happy and decided to spend time with her friends. A late-night party and a few vodka shots later, Amelia crashed onto her bed. He stood there with tears in his eyes.
‘Where have you been?’
‘I was just being happy. I know you won’t understand happiness. But thanks for leaving me alone for a while. Maybe, you could do that more often and take your ugly face to some other door.’
‘How would you live without me then? You forget things – like your father, because of his stupid Alzheimer’s’
‘Yeah, Yeah, I get it. You missed fighting with me, didn’t you?’
And the battle ensued for the remaining night. She yelled, cursed, cut her wrist, puked on the bed and finally slept in his arms. She hated him but couldn’t convince herself to live without him. Maybe he was right – he was her Siamese twin.
Next day, Amelia sat at the table and remembered her father. It was his death anniversary yesterday and she knew it. While cleaning her closet, she found a toy house he had gifted on her 8th birthday. It was a pink house with a white door. A unicorn stood at the entrance and a little clock on the chimney showed the time.
‘You miss him, right?’
‘Yes, And I like a fool went out celebrating last night. I am a worthless person. I just wanted to let go things, but it won’t.’
‘And what stops you from letting go?’
Amelia looked at him with disgust and smirked. Her heart yelled loud – it is you, you fucktard!
‘You know, I always hated you, but sometimes you do make sense. Maybe you are trying to show me the right path, but your way is different. I mean, why would you be silent in memory of my father? Why would you not praise me? I always think you are my biggest failure. And yes, you are. Perhaps, I have given you too much importance and you have not missed a single opportunity to make the best of it.’
‘Girl, I like that you are introspecting finally’
‘And I hate your sarcasm. Please let go off that’
‘Oh, you are better at that. Look I am still in no mood to fight, but your expert opinion on my character will lead this to a showdown and you would later end up reading a shitty self-help book, in a corner of this house, sipping some wine, sobbing and thinking everything will be answered by some asshole who thinks that the reader will follow his shit piece of literature and make world a better place, and you a better person. You have absolved yourself of regrets and you blame me for that. Well if that’s the case, then you can safely call yourself a loser that dwells on shitty events that won’t even matter later.’
Amelia had enough, and she charged back one final time.
‘Listen you Asshole, you think you care about me? Where were you when my father passed away. You have the audacity to call him a drunk Alzheimer but have no idea of what he went through all his life. I carried a scar of being an orphan all my life, cut my wrist, and hurt myself every time. I broke up with the man I loved the most because I found him fucking around with a friend of mine and yet again, you had no sympathy for me. You reminded me of the bad things that happened, every single time.
Why do you even stay with me? Who gives you the power to speak? What fuels your sarcasm? Don’t give me a fucked-up pep talk and think you can get away. You are a fucking coward. I have been asking you to leave me alone, but you won’t. You enjoy hurting me.’
‘Well, Well. Now that you asked me the right questions, I can sleep with content. I have always been around you, with you. Not at that very moment but a moment later. I am just a second away – only that late. But you remember me only when you feel sorry for yourself. I am nobody, I am just a reflection.
Call me perception – I can be good or bad, ugly or wise. It is all about the way you look at me. I am and will always be there – to hound you, show you the mirror, tell you things you don’t want to hear. But who, if not me. I am a product of your experiences and experiments with life. I simply reciprocate that in its purest form possible.
Learn to live with me and look forward to making me better. Trust me, it’s gonna be fun.’
A Day of Silence minus the self-help book and wine continued. Next morning, Amelia sat at the table and asked:
‘Why did you not tell me all this earlier?’
‘You never asked me the right question’
‘I think I don’t hate you anymore. I should accept you as a part of me.’